


a wonderful beginning

by cynical_optimist



Series: basically the princess bride [5]
Category: Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: 6+1, Ace Ursula, Alternate Universe - Princess Bride Fusion, Asexual Character, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Holding Hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4922998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynical_optimist/pseuds/cynical_optimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hello,” she greets the dark-eyed girl, once they arrive at the massive doors. For a moment, they are left alone, a still point in the chaos of arrivals.</p><p>“Princess Hero,” Ursula nods, but there is a pretty little smile hiding under the formality. “Would you like to come in?”</p><p>Hero curtseys and Ursula curtseys back, and then they are giggling and Ursula is taking hold of her hand and pulling her into the palace.</p><p>“Come on,” she whispers, and Hero wonders how her hands are so soft. “There’s a really pretty garden I want to show you.”</p><p> </p><p>six times hero holds someone's hand and one time she lets go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a wonderful beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another attempt to write fluff that failed miserably. Enjoy! x

_“‘Her favorite pastimes were riding her horse and tormenting the farm boy that worked there. His name was Westley, but she never called him that.’ Isn't that a wonderful beginning?”_

-The Princess Bride, 1987

 

i.

 

When Hero is halfway through her eighth year and nowhere near the height of her nurse, the royalty of Guilder arrive on a diplomatic visit. She stands as tall as she can next to her brother and mothers and tries not to stare at the dark-eyed girl staring back.

 

“This is the Crown Princess Ursula,” introduces the queen of Guilder, once the rest of the introductions are done, and Hero waves. Leo glares at her, and she drops her hand guiltily.

 

Once introductions are over, Leo off at his riding lesson and the monarchs have disappeared to “discuss details”--what for, Hero isn’t sure-- the two girls are left in the great hall.

 

“Hello,” she smiles, holding out a hand. “Do you like Florin?”

 

Ursula nods quietly, half hidden behind her tutor.

 

“Would you like to play with me?” She lets her arm drop back to her side.

 

Ursula shrugs, and her tutor laughs fondly.

 

“Now, now, Urs, the princess would like to play with you. Would it not be...uh… quite phenomenal to get to know her?”

 

Hero tries to smile invitingly, like her Mumma does when she wants her to do something, and bounces on her toes as she waits for an answer. Verges, her nurse, always tells her to be patient when she asks questions, so she stays quiet.

 

“Alright,” Ursula whispers, and Hero’s smile grows.

 

“Come on then,” she says, and when she holds out her hand again, Ursula takes it. “I think we’ll be friends. Always.”

 

“And forever,” Ursula contributes quietly, and Hero squeezes her hand.

  
  


ii.

 

Hero is ten the first time she visits Guilder, with it’s sloping archways and reaching towers. She wants to stop and stare forever, but Ursula is waiting and her Mumma is pulling her along by the hand, Verges trailing behind them.

 

“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, almost tripping over her skirt.

 

“Quite,” agrees Verges. “Now, we’d better be hurrying into the carriage, wouldn’t want to make them wait…”

 

The streets of Guilder are no less breathtaking, even viewed through a small window. The people rush about, hurriedly stepping out of the way of a royal carriage and its entourage before carrying on with their busy days. Entranced, she barely feels the time pass, and they are at the palace before she can blink.

 

The palace itself is even more of a masterpiece than the city itself, and Hero finds herself in awe. Then she sees Ursula, and pulls on her mother’s hand impatiently.

 

“Hello,” she greets the dark-eyed girl, once they arrive at the massive doors. For a moment, they are left alone, a still point in the chaos of arrivals.

 

“Princess Hero,” Ursula nods, but there is a pretty little smile hiding under the formality. “Would you like to come in?”

 

Hero curtseys and Ursula curtseys back, and then they are giggling and Ursula is taking hold of her hand and pulling her into the palace.

 

“Come on,” she whispers, and Hero wonders how her hands are so soft. “There’s a really pretty garden I want to show you.”

  
  


iii.

 

When Hero is thirteen years old, her mothers sit with her on her bed, one on either side of her, and tell her that they need to have a serious talk.

 

“Okay,” she says, and tries to remember what she’s done wrong. She kicked Leo under the table yesterday, but she already apologised for that.

 

“You know Princess Ursula?” her Mum starts, and Hero smiles, fear forgotten.

 

“Of course,” she says, because they’ve been taking turns visiting for years. She doesn’t understand why her parents encourage it so much-- she’s only ever seen Princess Winnifred of Navarre once, and her kingdom is closer-- but Ursula has become her best friend. “Is she visiting again?”

 

Her mothers meet eyes across her, Mumma frowning and Mum nodding. Her Mumma sighs.

 

“Hero, darling,” she says, and that’s when she really starts listening, because Mumma calls her a variety of nicknames, and only darling when it’s serious. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering why we encourage your friendship so much. We weren’t sure if we should tell you-- we thought we should let nature take its course-- but it really is best if you know.”

 

Hero nods slowly, dread and confusion swirling around in her stomach. “Nothing terrible?” she asks.

 

“Not at all,” her Mum cuts in. She reaches for her hand, twining their fingers together. “It’s just something you should know; it won’t even be relevant for years. You see, dearest, we have made a treaty with Guilder.”

 

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Hero asks, wondering what treaties have to do with Ursula. “It means we get help if someone attacks us or if we run out of food.”

 

“It is, yes. Sometimes, though, there are conditions: gold, for example, or a royal marriage.”

 

“Imogen,” her Mumma admonishes. “We were going to ease her into it.”

 

“Into what?”

 

Her Mumma sighs again and runs a hand through her hair, some stray strands catching on her rings briefly. Hero winces but doesn’t cry out; Verges will fix it later.

 

“Darling, that was one of the terms-- a marriage. It’s very common these days. It will unite our kingdoms under both families. Leo is already betrothed, so…”

 

“So I will marry Ursula,” Hero finishes.

 

“If the idea repulses you, we can call it off,” her Mumma reassures her.

 

“ _Antonia_ …”

 

“No,” Hero cuts in, before they begin to fight. It’s rare that they disagree over something, but she hates it when they do. Especially when it’s her fault. “It doesn’t repulse me.”

 

Her Mumma looks at her searchingly. “You are certain?” she asks. “Marriage is a lifelong commitment.”

 

Hero shrugs. “I love Ursula,” she says. “She’s my closest friend. It would be nice to spend the rest of my life with her.” She’s pretty, too, Hero doesn’t say, and the nicest person she’s ever met. Those words, she keeps bundled deep in her heart, ready to admire later, when she’s older and she knows what they mean.

 

“How were we blessed with you?” her Mum asks, hugging her tightly. “We love you so much, our little Hero.”

  
  


iv.

 

Hero is fifteen years old and saddled with more weight than a girl her age ought to be, according to Verges.

 

This is said with a pitying half-smile as she fixes her bodice and brushes her hair away from her face, tactfully ignoring the tears misting her eyes.

 

“I want to stay here,” Hero whispers. “Must I go?”

 

Verges sighs and crouches in front of her chair. “Dear…” she begins to say, catching the words at the last moment. “Princess, you know that you have to.”

 

“I know,” she replies. “But it hurts.” There’s a pain deep in her chest, digging its claws into her heart and lungs, screeching at her. “Seeing the graves… I…”

 

“Oh, Princess,” Verges sighs. “You must. You are so strong; the strongest girl I know. Put on your bravest face and face the world like the hero you were named for.”

 

Hero blinks rapidly, trying to control her breathing. “I’m not strong,” she says. “Not like Leo, or Ursula, or Mum and Mumma are-- were--” Her voice breaks and she presses her lips together, swallowing back a sob. “They would know what to do,” she manages. “Mum and Mumma. They know how to--”

 

“Hey, hey, hey,” soothes Verges, taking both her hands in hers and kissing them lightly.

 

“I want them back,” Hero sobs, and Verges traces patterns on the back of her hands. “I want my parents back.” Her tears flow freely, dripping onto her new black dress. The grief digs its claws in deeply, tearing at her chest and pulling at her ribs. It sits heavily on her diaphram and snarls. Her shoulders shake.

 

“I know you do.” Verges whispers, rubbing her hands. “But now, you have to grieve with the rest of the kingdom. Come on, Princess.”

 

Hero nods jerkily, wiping at her eyes with the handerchief Verges provides and taking a deep breath. “Okay,” she says. “I’m okay.”

 

She isn’t, but, to her people, she must be.

 

If they see the princess shaking a little beside her stiff, stoic brother, no one mentions it. If anyone notices her smaller hand slipping into the newly-crowned king’s, they ignore it. Even the royal family can grieve, sometimes.

  
  


v.

 

On the thirteenth day before she turns eighteen, Princess Hero of Florin looks into the eyes of her betrothed and realises she is in love. She is sitting on the roof of said betrothed’s palace, desperately hoping that her nurse-turned-lady in waiting won’t wake up before she returns to bed, and she turns to Ursula to comment on the sky. Her words dry up in her throat.

 

 _Oh_ , she thinks, and then, _oh dear_. She looks away quickly, turning her eyes back to the stars-- _not quite as pretty as Ursula’s eyes_ \-- and blushes. The stars and the moon are the only light they have, so there is no way that Ursula will notice, but she wills it away anyway. There is no reason for her to act like a five year old with a crush, not around her best friend.

 

“I want to paint them,” Ursula says. “The stars. I want to paint them all over the castle, so that I can see them even when it’s daytime or I’m stuck inside.”

 

Hero nods in agreement. “They’re always more difficult to see in Florin.” This changes nothing, really. Her affection for Ursula is no more or less than Ursula’s own, simply different. Her mothers had warned her of the possibility of falling in love-- championed it, even-- and she knows that they will grow closer through the marriage. There has always been the possiblity, however, that they will stay friends and nothing else.

 

“I’ll paint them for you,” Ursula offers, and Hero’s heart warms.

 

“Thank you,” she whispers, turning her head and meeting Ursula’s eyes. “I’d like that. On your next trip to Florin?”

 

“Of course.”

 

They smile at another for a moment before turning back to the sky. A breeze ruffles by them, and Hero is glad for the blankets they brought up to the roof with them. Still, a shiver courses through her, and Ursula looks over, concerned.

 

“You’re cold?” she asks. “We could always go back inside before they notice our absence.”

 

Hero shakes her head. “I’d rather stay with you,” she says, and it feels like a confession.

 

Shuffling closer, Ursula twines their fingers together and rests her head on her shoulder. “Here,” she says. “Does this help?”

 

It does, and Hero lets a smile slip onto her face that doesn’t move for the rest of the night. Even if they never become anything other than friends, spending their marriage in comfortable companionship, this is good. This is enough.

 

“I love you,” Ursula whispers. “You’re my best friend.”

 

“Always and forever.”

  
  


vi.

 

On the day of their official betrothal, when Hero is halfway between nineteen and twenty, she leaves as soon as she can without raising suspicion. She darts through the halls of her castle, taking twists and turns that she memorised when she was five, and lets herself onto an abandonned balcony. Gripping the railing, Hero screws her eyes shut and just _breathes_.

 

It shouldn’t hurt. She has made peace with her less-than-platonic love for her best friend, and it has almost fallen into the background.

 

The ceremony, though: Leo’s announcement and the cheers juxtaposed with the quiet words whispered into her ear were too much for her to handle.

 

_These young women, closer to me than any, but closer to each other by far, have chosen to unite our kingdoms in a joyful, loving union._

_You’re my best friend._

 

There are footsteps behind her, the gentle creak of the balcony door, and Hero composes herself, taking a deep breath. She smooths down her dress and turns to face the intruder.

 

Ursula.

 

“I saw you leave,” the taller princess explains. “Are you alright?”

 

Hero shrugs, not quite trusting her voice, and Ursula steps closer, taking her hand in her own and stroking it with her thumb.

 

“What’s wrong?” Ursula asks, because Ursula has always been far too perceptive.

 

Hero cannot lie to Ursula, has never been able to lie to Ursula, so she steels her will and says, “I’m in love with you.” The words come out remarkably steady, and she applauds herself silently.

 

Ursula’s lips part in shock, eyes widening. “ _Oh_ ,” she breathes.

 

“I’m sorry,” she hastens to add. “I don’t… I won’t bring it up again. I had to tell you, just so you’d know before we married. I swear by all the saints that I won’t make anything difficult for us. I value your friendship above anything else, and I don’t wish to do anything to compromise that.”

 

Ursula blinks and her mouth closes. “ _No,_ ” she breathes. “No, Hero, I…”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Hero says, beginning to pull away.

 

Ursula’s fingers tighten around hers. “Hero, no,” she repeats. “I love you.”

 

“ _Oh_.” It is Hero’s turn to be speechless.

 

Ursula chuckles, glancing down at their entwined hands. “Yes,” she says. “I have loved you since we met, I think. I thought you knew”

 

“I didn’t know.” Hero smiles. “Oh, gosh, we’re a bit silly, aren’t we? Betrothed and not confessing our love until the announcement?”

 

Ursula nods, still laughing a little. “The silliest.”

 

Stepping closer, Hero takes Ursula’s other hand. “May I kiss you?” she asks hesitantly. She’s kissed before-- a stableboy when she was fourteen and wondering what it felt like, though she’d instantly felt guitly when she’d remembered her betrothal. It was nice, she remembers, but she’d really like to kiss Ursula. Ursula, who confessed to her in whispered tones when they were thirteen and just beginning to know each other, that she didn’t want to do anything with boys, and probably not girls, either.

 

Ursula nods. “Okay,” she says, and their lips meet. It is a chaste kiss, and over shortly after it began, but her lips tingle where they touched and contentment settles around her heart.

 

“I love you,” Hero says.

 

“I love you, too,” replies Ursula, “always and forever.”

 

+i.

 

Hero, two days away from twenty, holds onto Ursula’s tightly, face buried in her shoulder. “I don’t want you to go,” she murmurs. “Why can’t you stay with me?”

 

Ursula sighs deeply, holding her just as tightly. “I don’t want to go, either,” she says. “But I must, just for two weeks. I’m sorry I’m missing your birthday, but I’ll be back in time for the wedding.”

 

Hero draws away, running her hands down Ursula’s arms until she reaches her hands. She twines their fingers together. “Be safe,” she begs, as she does every time they part. “Don’t go chasing any pirates.”

 

“Of course not,” replies Ursula. “I could never hold a sword.”

 

Hero can’t help but laugh at the image. “It’s probably best you stick to the royal life,” she agrees. “In all sincerity,” she adds, “come back to me quickly. Don’t walk into danger.”

 

“Why are you so worried?” her fiancé asks. “We do this every few months. You’ve travelled across the sea as many times as I.”

 

Shrugging, Hero rests her head on Ursula’s shoulder, not letting go of her hands. She feels restless, jumpy, like some terrible catastrophe is about to strike, and she knows it is irrational. “It’s nothing,” she says, and lifts her head to look into Ursula’s beautiful eyes.

 

The taller princess smiles fondly and kisses her forehead softly. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

A sailor approaches them. “Princesses,” he greets. “Ah-- I’m afraid it is time to embark, Princess Ursula.”

 

Ursula nods. “I’m coming,” she says, and he scurries off.

 

Hero tightens her hold on her hands. “Be safe,” she pleads again. “Please.”

 

“I promise. I’ll be back on these shores in two weeks exactly, just in time for our wedding.”

 

They embrace again, Hero’s head nestled between Ursula’s next and shoulder, before the sailor shouts again.

 

“I love you,” Hero whispers, drawing away but not letting go of her hands.

 

“Always and forever,” Ursula agrees, and she begins to walk backwards, fingers loosening. Their hands slips apart until just their fingertips are touching, and then the pressure is gone, and Ursula is boarding the ship.

 

Hero clasps her hands together and watches the ship until it passes out of sight. The feeling of dread does not settle, trampling over her soul and brushing past her stomach.

 

 _It’s fine_ , she tells herself, _everything will be fine_. There have been no attacks in those waters for months; there’s no reason to worry. Ursula will return to her, safe and warm, within the month. Her fear is irrational.

 

Still, the feeling persists.

 

**Author's Note:**

> And then Ursula is attacked by the Queen of the Seas and we are launched into the plot of The Princess Bride.


End file.
